them；　as　if　I　were　cast　away　among　creatures　with　whom　I　had　no
  community　of　nature。　They　were　very　cheerful。　The　old　man　sat　in
  front　to　drive；　and　the　two　young　people　sat　behind　him；　and
  whenever　he　spoke　to　them　leaned　forward；　the　one　on　one　side　of
  his　chubby　face　and　the　other　on　the　other；　and　made　a　great　deal
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  of　him。　They　would　have　talked　to　me　too；　but　I　held　back；　and
  moped　in　my　corner；　scared　by　their　love…making　and　hilarity；
  though　it　was　far　from　boisterous；　and　almost　wondering　that　no
  judgement　came　upon　them　for　their　hardness　of　heart。
  So；　when　they　stopped　to　bait　the　horse；　and　ate　and　drank　and
  enjoyed　themselves；　I　could　touch　nothing　that　they　touched；　but
  kept　my　fast　unbroken。　So；　when　we　reached　home；　I　dropped　out
  of　the　chaise　behind；　as　quickly　as　possible；　that　I　might　not　be　in
  their　company　before　those　solemn　windows；　looking　blindly　on
  me　like　closed　eyes　once　bright。　And　oh；　how　little　need　I　had　had
  to　think　what　would　move　me　to　tears　when　I　came　back—seeing
  the　window　of　my　mother’s　room；　and　next　it　that　which；　in　the
  better　time；　was　mine！
  I　was　in　Peggotty’s　arms　before　I　got　to　the　door；　and　she　took
  me　into　the　house。　Her　grief　burst　out　when　she　first　saw　me；　but
  she　controlled　it　soon；　and　spoke　in　whispers；　and　walked　softly；　as
  if　the　dead　could　be　disturbed。　She　had　not　been　in　bed；　I　found；
  for　a　long　time。　She　sat　up　at　night　still；　and　watched。　As　long　as
  her　poor　dear　pretty　was　above　the　ground；　she　said；　she　would
  never　desert　her。
  Mr。　Murdstone　took　no　heed　of　me　when　I　went　into　the　parlour
  where　he　was；　but　sat　by　the　fireside；　weeping　silently；　and
  pondering　in　his　elbow…chair。　Miss　Murdstone；　who　was　busy　at
  her　writing…desk；　which　was　covered　with　letters　and　papers；　gave
  me　her　cold　finger…nails；　and　asked　me；　in　an　iron　whisper；　if　I　had
  been　measured　for　my　mourning。
  I　said：　‘Yes。’
  ‘And　your　shirts；’　said　Miss　Murdstone；　‘have　you　brought　’em
  home？’
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  ‘Yes；　ma’am。　I　have　brought　home　all　my　clothes。’
  This　was　all　the　consolation　that　her　firmness　administered　to
  me。　I　do　not　doubt　that　she　had　a　choice　pleasure　in　exhibiting
  what　she　called　her　self…command；　and　her　firmness；　and　her
  strength　of　mind；　and　her　common　sense；　and　the　whole　diabolical
  catalogue　of　her　unamiable　qualities；　on　such　an　occasion。　She　was
  particularly　proud　of　her　turn　for　business；　and　she　showed　it　now
  in　reducing　everything　to　pen　and　ink；　and　being　moved　by
  nothing。　All　the　rest　of　that　day；　and　from　morning　to　night
  afterwards；　she　sat　at　that　desk；　scratching　composedly　with　a
  hard　pen；　speaking　in　the　same　imperturbable　whisper　to
  everybody；　never　relaxing　a　muscle　of　her　face；　or　softening　a　tone
  of　her　voice；　or　appearing　with　an　atom　of　her　dress　astray。
  Her　brother　took　a　book　sometimes；　but　never　read　it　that　I
  saw。　He　would　open　it　and　look　at　it　as　if　he　were　reading；　but
  would　remain　for　a　whole　hour　without　turning　the　leaf；　and　then
  put　it　down　and　walk　to　and　fro　in　the　room。　I　used　to　sit　with
  folded　hands　watching　him；　and　counting　his　footsteps；　hour　after
  hour。　He　very　seldom　spoke　to　her；　and　never　to　me。　He　seemed　to
  be　the　only　restless　thing；　except　the　clocks；　in　the　whole
  motionless　house。
  In　these　days　before　the　funeral；　I　saw　but　little　of　Peggotty；
  except　that；　in　passing　up　or　down　stairs；　I　always　found　her　close
  to　the　room　where　my　mother　and　her　baby　lay；　and　except　that
  she　came　to　me　every　night；　and　sat　by　my　bed’s　head　while　I　went
  to　sleep。　A　day　or　two　before　the　burial—I　think　it　was　a　day　or　two
  before；　but　I　am　conscious　of　confusion　in　my　mind　about　that
  heavy　time；　with　nothing　to　mark　its　progress—she　took　me　into
  the　room。　I　only　recollect　that　underneath　some　white　covering　on
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  the　bed；　with　a　beautiful　cleanliness　and　freshness　all　around　it；
  there　seemed　to　me　to　lie　embodied　the　solemn　stillness　that　was
  in　the　house；　and　that　when　she　would　have　turned　the　cover
  gently　back；　I　cried：　‘Oh　no！　oh　no！’　and　held　her　hand。
  If　the　funeral　had　been　yesterday；　I　could　not　recollect　it　better。
  The　very　air　of　the　best　parlour；　when　I　went　in　at　the　door；　the
  bright　condition　of　the　fire；　the　shining　of　the　wine　in　the
  decanters；　the　patterns　of　the　glasses　and　plates；　the　faint　sweet
  smell　of　cake；　the　odour　of　Miss　Murdstone’s　dress；　and　our　black
  clothes。　Mr。　Chillip　is　in　the　room；　and　comes　to　speak　to　me。
  ‘And　how　is　Master　David？’　he　says；　kindly。
  I　cannot　tell　him　very　well。　I　give　him　my　hand；　which　he　holds
  in　his。
  ‘Dear　me！’　says　Mr。　Chillip；　meekly　smiling；　with　something
  shining　in　his　eye。　‘Our　little　friends　grow　up　around　us。　They
  grow　out　of　our　knowledge；　ma’am？’　This　is　to　Miss　Murdstone；
  who　makes　no　reply。
  ‘There　is　a　great　improvement　here；　ma’am？’　says　Mr。　Chillip。
  Miss　Murdstone　merely　answers　with　a　frown　and　a　formal
  bend：　Mr。　Chillip；　discomfited；　goes　into　a　corner；　keeping　me　with
  him；　and　opens　his　mouth　no　more。
  I　remark　this；　because　I　remark　everything　that　happens；　not
  because　I　care　about　myself；　or　have　done　since　I　came　home。　And
  now　the　bell　begins　to　sound；　and　Mr。　Omer　and　another　come　to
  make　us　ready。　As　Peggotty　was　wont　to　tell　me；　long　ago；　the
  followers　of　my　father　to　the　same　grave　were　made　ready　in　the
  same　room。
  There　are　Mr。　Murdstone；　our　neighbour　Mr。　Grayper；　Mr。
  Chillip；　and　I。　When　we　go　out　to　the　door；　the　Bearers　and　their
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  load　are　in　the　garden；　and　they　move　before　us　down　the　path；
  and　past　the　elms；　and　through　the　gate；　and　into　the　churchyard；
  where　I　have　so　often　heard　the　birds　sing　on　a　summer　morning。
  We　stand　around　the　grave。　The　day　seems　different　to　me　from
  every　other　day；　and　the　light　not　of　the　same　colour—of　a　sadder
  colour。　Now　there　is　a　solemn　hush；　which　we　have　brought　from
  home　with　what　is　resting　in　the　mould；　and　while　we　stand
  bareheaded；　I　hear　the　voice　of　the　clergyman；　sounding　remote　in
  the　open　air；　and　yet　distinct　and　plain；　saying：　‘I　am　the
  Resurrection　and　the　Life；　saith　the　Lord！’　Then　I　hear　sobs；　and；
  standing　apart　among　the　lookers…on；　I　see　that　good　and　faithful
  servant；　whom　of　all　the　people　upon　earth　I　love　the　best；　and
  unto　whom　my　childish　heart　is　certain　that　the　Lord　will　one　day
  say：　‘Well　done。’
  There　are　many　faces　that　I　know；　among　the　little　crowd；　faces
  that　I　knew　in　church；　when　mine　was　always　wondering　there；
  faces　that　first　saw　my　mother；　when　she　came　to　the　village　in　her
  youthful　bloom。　I　do　not　mind　them—I　mind　nothing　but　my
  grief—and　yet　I　see　and　know　them　all；　and　even　in　the
  background；　far　away；　see　Minnie　looking　on；　and　her　eye　glancing
  on　her　sweetheart；　who　is　near　me。
  It　is　over；　and　the　earth　is　filled　in；　and　we　turn　to　come　away。
  Before　us　stands　our　house；　so　pretty　and　unchanged；　so　linked　in
  my　mind　with　the　young　idea　of　what　is　gone；　that　all　my　sorrow
  has　been　nothing　to　the　sorrow　it　calls　forth。　But　they　take　me　on；
  and　Mr。　Chillip　talks　to　me；　and　when　we　get　home；　puts　some
  water　to　my　lips；　and　when　I　ask　his　leave　to　go　up　to　my　room；
  dismisses　me　with　the　gentleness　of　a　woman。
  All　this；　I　say；　is　yesterday’s　event。　Events　of　later　date　have
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  floated　from　me　to　the　shore　where　all　forgotten　things　will
  reappear；　but　this　stands　like　a　high　rock　in　the　ocean。
  I　knew　that　Peggotty　would　come　to　me　in　my　room。　The
  Sabbath　stillness　of　the　time　（the　day　was　so　like　Sunday！　I　have
  forgotten　that）　was　suited　to　us　both。　She　sat　down　by　my　side
  upon　my　little　bed；　and　holding　my　hand；　and　sometimes　putting　it
  to　her　lips；　and　sometimes　smoothing　it　with　hers；　as　she　might
  have　comforted　my　little　brother；　told　me；　in　her　way；　all　that　she
  had　to　tell　concerning　what　had　happened。
  ‘She　was　never　well；’　said　Peggotty；　‘for　a　long　time。　She　was
  uncertain　in　her　mind；　and　not　happy。　When　her　baby　was　born；　I
  thought　at　first　she　would　get　better；　but　she　was　more　delicate；
  and　sunk　a　little　every　day。　She　used　to　like　to　sit　alone　before　her
  baby　came；　and　then　she　cried；　but　afterwards　she　used　to　sing　to
  it—so　soft；　that　I　once　thought；　when　I　heard　her；　it　was　like　a
  voice　up　in　the　air；　that　was　rising　away。
  ‘I　think　she　got　to　be　more　timid；　and　more　frightened…like；　of
  late；　and　that　a　hard　word　was　like　a　blow　to　her。　But　she　was
  always　the　same　to　me。　She　never　changed　to　her　foolish　Peggotty；
  didn’t　my　sweet　girl。’
  Here　Peggotty　stopped；　and　softly　beat　upon　my　hand　a　little
  while。
  ‘The　last　time　that　I　saw　her　like　her　own　old　self；　was　the　night
  when　you　came　home；　my　dear。　The　day　you　went　away；　she　said
  to　me；　“I　never　shall　see　my　pretty　darling　again。　Something　tells
  me　so；　that　tells　the　truth